


the best is yet to come

by heartunsettledsoul



Series: Forgotten Moments [6]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon compliant for now, angst fest by accident my b, inspired by 2.07 stills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartunsettledsoul/pseuds/heartunsettledsoul
Summary: Betty wakes up in Jughead's bed, alone. Her mind is not settled enough to avoid fearing the worst. Angst-heavy, but comforting ensues and there's hope for these two yet. quick little fic drabble inspired by the 2.07 stills.





	the best is yet to come

**Author's Note:**

> my take on those 2.07 stills of Betty waking up in Jug's bed in the trailer.

Betty woke up, terrified. 

In a fit of defiance against Alice ‒ who is  _ still  _ less than pleased about Betty’s public airing of her mugshot ‒ she’d told her she was not coming home the night before. Not only that, Betty told her she was going to sleep at Jughead’s. In the trailer devoid of parents. It had certainly done the job of royally pissing Alice off. 

Nothing had happened, though. The couple were still walking on eggshells around each other, unsure of whether they could slide so easily back into their rhythm from before. Before everything went to hell in a handbasket. There was so much they needed to talk about ‒ Jughead’s initiation with the Serpents, Betty’s worries from  _ before  _ he even started his initiation, this insane Black Hood debacle, the drag race and the Ghoulies, and everything inbetween. Each time they were together now, it felt like they were dancing around each other, too gunshy to bring up what they really wanted to talk about. Instead it was light conversation: who normally took care of Hot Dog, the books they read for their respective English classes. Jughead was even more careful of touching Betty, never making direct contact with her skin and rubbing at the back of his neck before backing away any time it felt like they were about to kiss. 

They were back together,  _ technically _ , but Betty still felt like they were in conflicting orbits. Not unlike how they’d been in the weeks leading up to the brief, but heart-wrenching separation. 

The night before they had gone to sleep in his bed, Betty wearing one of his well-worn S shirts, and the way Jughead had instinctively curled around her body under the blankets had made her heart swell with hope. The vulnerable innocence of sleep seemed to be closing the ever-present gap between them. Betty hadn’t slept so soundly in days, finally able to shake the deep sense of dread that shrouded her ever since the first Black Hood call. 

But she woke up, alone in an empty bed, startled out of sleep by a haunting nightmare full of the menacing voice and threats against her loved ones. Threats against Jughead. Who was no longer wrapped around her. 

Fear grasped her, icy and cold.  _ No, this isn’t happening. It can’t be.  _ Jostled from sleep so violently, Betty’s mind went to the worst case: the Black Hood had called her bluff, he’d come for her and taken Jughead in retaliation. The room, streaming with the bright light of early morning, suddenly felt dark and small. The walls were closing in around her and she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even feel her hands clearly enough to dig her nails in and shake herself from the encroaching darkness like she normally might. 

A strangled wail leapt from Betty’s throat, choked by her shallow breathing. 

“Betty?” Jughead had appear in the doorway, looking decidedly confused. It turned to panic as he took in the scene before him: Betty, shaking and glassy-eyed, breathing hard in terror. 

He quickly dropped the two coffee mugs in his hand to the floor, hot liquid spilling everywhere, and rushed over to her. Sitting gently on the bed, he tried not to startle her when laying a light hand on her shoulder. “Betts, hey, it’s me. It’s Jug. You’re okay, you’re okay.” Jughead tried to make eye contact to break whatever spell she was in, but Betty’s eyes remained unfocused. She was shaking violently under his touch, gasping for breath and desperately clutching her hands in fists. 

Noticing this, Jughead took her hands in his. He cupped them together and gently pried her fingernails out of her palms before pressing a kiss to their joined knuckles, just had he had in the diner that night so many weeks before. It felt like an eternity had passed since then, another time when he had lashed out in pain and self-preservation and failed to see the pain Betty was in. He’d been so scared to tell her everything on his mind, everything that had happened with the Serpents ‒ with Toni ‒ and reveal all the chaos he had been keeping from her. She had told him about the Black Hood, the calls that scared her beyond belief, enough to take his heart he’d so tentatively given her and break it in two. She  _ told  _ him how terrifying it felt, but Jughead didn’t truly understand until now. The fear that coursed through Betty’s body in that moment was all-consuming. He felt shaken by it. 

Slowly, slowly Betty came back to him. She blinked, staring at her bleeding hands in his. Feeling that her shaking stopped, Jughead looked back into her eyes. They were full of tears now, spilling silently over her crumpled face. She collapsed into his embrace and sobbed in full. Jughead wrapped his arms around her, desperately wishing his touch could take away her pain. All he could do was stroke her hair and rock her as she cried, whispering confirmations in her ear. 

“I’m okay, I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Betty. I love you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> always love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> find me on tumblr under the same handle.


End file.
